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Book Quest: Epilogue
IHQ War Room This chamber consists of a raised central platform from which the speaker can address the room, surrounded by a staggered seating area, the stepped floor allowing for more to be present than any table might. At the center of the platform is a holo projector to assist the speaker and to display strategy, plans, maps, and any other information the speaker may wish to convey. All the walls, save the entrance from the Command Center, are decorated with banners of the Empire and images of Decepticon victories. The entrance itself is a sealable double door to keep those who are not authorized from interrupting any briefings. Contents: Megatron Obvious exits: North leads to IHQ Conference Chamber. Northwest leads to IHQ Command Center. Mesa has arrived. Megatron is seated alone in the room, in one of the chairs ranged around the circular projector platform. The lights are dim; Cybertron doesn't use energy lavishly as Earth does. Mesa firmly and ever so properly salutes Megatron. "Sir. The shuttles have begun their decent to the space port while the others are heading to Earth. Save that smaller cache, all the Energon has returned." Mesa then goes to the at ease position. "Sir. There is... something else..." Mesa hesitates. "I do not think this is the last we will see of /Galvatron/." Mesa lets that last part hang in the air. "After a fashion, no," replies Megatron. "But how did YOU mean it?" Catechism follows just behind Mesa. She tromps into the room, her footfalls heavy. Her damage seems to have healed on its own, paint aside. In her cockpit, there appears to be a book. Catechism performs a very formal salute, and then she looks over at Mesa anxiously. She wasn't around for the whole Guiltor debacle, but she has read the reports, and if Galvatron has found some way to become similarly unkillable... that could be really, really bad. Catechism pops opens her cockpit and withdraws a book, white as the driven snow. She says nothing yet, however, waiting for Mesa to continue. Mesa simply states, "What rises must fall... what has fallen will rise again." After a moment of silence, Mesa continues. "This came from the mouth of a rather Gold Autobot. I am begining to form a theory on things, and I will let you know when I come up with something more concrete. But I need to see all availible information pertaining to Unit Goldpaver and this book that we have in our possesion. If it pleases you Lord." Mesa asks respectfully. Mesa is one of the few who still actively uses military protocol. Still standing firmly at ease, head straight forward. "So far as I'm aware," replies Megatron, "you two know more about that book than any other living being right now." He holds out a hand to Catechism. "As for Goldpaver, Shockwave will have the files." "Yes sir. I recommend it remain that way." Mesa states flatly. "If my hunch is correct we have something bigger on the horizon. Goldpaver will show me the way, as will these books. If I can somehow wrest the book from Autobot hands, it would do us good." Mesa doesn't say anything further instead steps to the side so that Catechism can step to the forefront and relay her availible information as well. "You may need to work with the tapes on that," replies Megatron. "Ravage in particular is masterful at extracting small, valuable things from difficult circumstances." Catechism holds out the book in her hands, offering it reverently to Megatron. She reports, "My lord, I first scoped out the library in the Academe in Crystal City. From there, my team travelled to Babel, a planet that contains... every book. Or will. The librarian monks have books that speak of the future, and they were expecting Transformers. However, they were expecting Transformers sent by a 'Goldbug'. I assured them that they were. They tried to give us a fake book, and when I pointed that out, they attacked. In the confusion, I grabbed this," the book she has now. "It could be fake. I don't know enough to say, but if it's fake, it's a better fake than that other one." She pauses and purses her lips together, adding, "Off topic, but Thunderwing may have been working for Galvatron, sir, and, ah... you remember what I said, right before you gave me this quest?" About Soundwave? You drop White Book Of Primus. Megatron takes White Book Of Primus. Megatron takes the book in hand and opens it to a random page, reading for a few moments before he closes it again and places it in his lap. "Go on." Catechism looks over at Mesa uncertainly, and she holds her hands out. She replies, "Sir, can you really be sure that Ravage would deliver the other book to you, if he obtained it?" Without moving his head, Mesa's mono-optic moves towards Catechism then back to Megatron. Mesa already knows the answer to this, but it is not his place to say anything. "No," admits Megatron. "But I can't be sure that Mesa would survive an attempt to invade Autobot City, either." Catechism's optics brighten, and she snaps her fingers together. She suggests, knowing that she will likely be shot down, "Oh, you could put a cortex bomb in Ravage, sir!" Catchism has an unholy love of cortex bombs. If she ever learns brain surgery, it'll just be so that she can slap bombs in people's heads. This is why she should never be allowed to take medical training. Megatron sucks his teeth thoughtfully. "I'm... trying to avoid the cortex bomb business from here on out. Now that Galvatron is dead I don't need to coerce loyalty; there is no one else to be loyal to." Mesa finally speaks up. "Sir. I do not think that will be necessary. Soundwave and his Unit are loyal to the Empire and always have been. I do not doubt that for a nano second. I do understand Catechism's caution but the idea of implanting Cortex Bombs in every bot is.." Mesa is cut off by Megatron and says nothing further. Megatron nods silently to Mesa. He doesn't need the point argued, apparently; it is his own thought. Catechism stifles her enthusiasm. She looks to Mesa. Does she dare trust his assurance? He is DCI. He could be covering for Ravage. Catechism rubs the back of her cone, and she comments, "Guardian Shockwave was very surprised that Unicron's head was operational. He didn't think they had the tech support to do it, sir." She gives Mesa a meaningful look. "Even disregarding gumbies," points out Megatron, "I wouldn't put it past either Cyclonus or Galvatron. The only reason I'm not an engineer myself is that I have more important things to spend my time doing. It is certainly within my power... and therefore would've been within his." Mesa stands firm. "I will begin operations with Unit ARIA, and begin searching for what we need. I will require high security clearance for this mission Lord Megatron. The information I will require will more than likely be in highly sensitive areas. Catechism should also should be granted the same clearance." Mesa completely ignores Catechism's comment, mainly because he doesn't know how things came to pass either. Catechism crosses her arms and points out, '"If Galvatron has Thunderwing, that would certainly help explain the operational status of Unicron's head, sir." She chews her lips, undertain. Why does Mesa think she needs that kind of clearance? She was just a book delivery girl, and Megatron still hasn't told her if it's any good. Still, if Mesa thinks she can be of use, she is always willing to serve her Empire. "Do what it takes," Megatron tells Mesa firmly. "You will have what you need. Go to Shockwave or directly to me for whatever that might be." He turns to Catechism, drumming his fingers on the book's thick cover. "Mm. Yes, Thunderwing. Quite possible. We never did recover his body. We'll assume for now that Thunderwing lives." Mesa speaks up again after a long silence. "Sir if I may, this issue with Thunderwing concerns me. Those shells he was having us test out on Dinobot island still linger in my mind. I am of the mind set that he also has something big in the works as well." Mesa thinks back to Dinobot island and unconciously rubs the back of his hand while he is in the at ease position. His systems were very much not compatible with the shells, for the same reason he is not a seeker. His laser core is far too old and he can't handle the high speeds or extremely new tech. Catechism looks to Mesa, and she offers, "It'll be easier for you and yours to get in and out if the Autobots are distracted. May I propose that an attack on a power plant be led at the same time or slightly prior to the insertion of your agent? If the Autobots are deloyed out to fight us, there will be less to catch your man, and it would be perfecly in character for us to raid a power plant." It's what they do. "I don't doubt it, but first the books... THEN Thunderwing," replies Megatron. "Good thinking, Catechism. We will draw the Autobots out as we send our team in. You will lead the strike team. Mesa will coordinate the infiltration team." Mesa gives a firm salute. "By your will Lord Megatron." Then Mesa goes back to the at ease position. It's funny that Catechism thinks the same way that Mesa does. He always uses distraction plans. So its nice to see someone in the same train of thought. Mesa simply gives a slight smile to the idea. "You're both dismissed. Good work," concludes Megatron, leaning over to bring the echoing room's single lamp closer to himself so that he can read the hard-won book. Mesa does an about face but then whispers to Catechism, "Shall we continue our conversation?" Then he leaves out the door. He lives for another day.. but wait, this isn't the insane Galvatron who has no idea what the Decepticon Ideology is about. This is MEGATRON the leader of our Empire and upholder of our ideals. Cannoning an asset would be silly to him. And for some reason Megatron feels Mesa is an asset. Catechism blinks a few times. Lead a strike team? Yeah, she can do that. It's just an unexpected but not unwelcome honour. She bows and replies, "Thank you, Lord Megatron. The boys and I will make sure that the security of their books is the last thing on the Autobots' minds." She pauses, one moment, and in a small voice, she asks, "I don't deserve to know this, sir, but if you would deign to let me know, please tell me if I brought back the right book, when you know?" Catechism wrings her hands and nods to Mesa. "We may none of us know that for some time, if ever," replies Megatron, raising a hand to wave Catechism off. Mesa has left. ((travel spam)) Istoral Trench On entering the huge chasm known as the Istoral Trench, fiercely cold winds buffet your chassis. Several landslides have occured here, dumping tons of twisted metal on the floor of the trench, forcing a slower pace to maneuver through the scrap fields. On the canyon walls are multiple caverns and sharp-edged metal outcroppings enveloped in shadow. A flicker of movement up above indicates that you may not be alone. Could that be a pack of Turbo-Wolves looking for a meal? The trench continues indefinitely to the North and South. Contents: Mesa Obvious exits: Up leads to Istoral Chasm. North leads to Istoral Trench North. South leads to Istoral Trench South. Mesa sits back down at his spot, "Now, what do you want to know about?" Mesa asks bluntly. "No beating around the bush. Just ask what you wish to ask." Mesa states rather flatly. He folds his arms awaiting a response from the attractive conehead. Catechism considers, rubbing her chin, and then she flings out her arms, stretching. She wanders around aimlessly, trying to get her thoughts together. Finally, she asks, "Were you in the Order? Magma was." "Yes." Is all that comes from Mesa's mouth for some time. Then finally after a long while of waiting, "Magma, myself and two Autobots who I will not name, were in the Order of Excelsius. We instituted order across cybertron, people loved us and feared us. Mostly feared us. We acted in secret but we acted with the interests of Cybertron at heart. It is the very reason I joined the Decepticons. When the order disbanded, I needed a new purpose, and a place to hide. I came here. I honestly believe in our ideals. I honestly believe we are doing right." Mesa lets the words trail off and echo. And for the first time in what seems like a long slaggin day, Mesa decides to play some sort of Terran Classical music. Catechism nods thoughtfully. Curiosity does not belong in the heart of a warrior, and yet she has it. Is it left over from being a combiner piece? Catechism couldn't say. She has a handful of Russian phrases rattling around her head, too. Catechism comments, "I... have difficulty imagining the peace before the war. I was built after the war, you know. A world without the Empire..." She shudders. "Still. Seems you fellows had the right idea. What was your role?" A frown appears on Mesa's face. As if he is reliving a painful memory of some sort. "That... I do not wish to talk about. Another time perhaps. Lets just say that my role now and my role in the Order are not too disimilar." Mesa looks at the ground for a moment, then back at Catechism. "Anything else you wish to know?" Catechism takes a few steps back, and she holds up her hands. She says, "I think that will be all for now, Mesa. Another time for my other questions. I am sure that the both of us are quite stressed." She smiles wanly. "Good luck with your planning. For my part, I am thinking a distraction location fairly far away from where they are holding the book, to increase transit time." Mesa stands up and offers his hand out to shake Catechism's. "I hope this asuages any doubt of my loyalty to the Empire. And as for my planning. I am already done. I merely need to form my team for this mission and I will be ready to go." Mesa smiles at Catechism in a genuine fashion. He seems really happy about this mission for some reason. Maybe it's because he isn't doing something like fading into the background anymore. Catechism accepts Mesa's handshake, her grip is firm and resolute but not crushing. She replies, "We serve a many-headed beast, Mesa. I never doubt that you serve the Empire. When I doubt, it is that I doubt we are serving the same head." She chuckles. "You work quickly. I'll see who and what I can get together." Mesa says, "Agreed." Mesa vanishes out of reality. Mesa has left.